Page 63 of Under the Mistletoe

“I’m taking you out.” My eyes lock on Jessica.

“Out?” Her eyebrows lift, confusion flickering across her face.

“Ohhh, I need popcorn… This is going to be epic.” Shelley is practically bouncing in place. Her grin widens, and I fight the urge to smile back.

“But I’m not…” She looks down at herself, second-guessing her appearance, and I hate that. She’s beautiful.

“Stop, you’re glowing. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you lit up when he walked in.”

Jessica purses her lips at her friend, her cheeks flushed.

“We’re going out. Tonight. The two of us. I want the media to get their shot.”

“You do?” She’s cautious as I nod.

“I do. It’s time. I want the world to know you’re mine and I’m yours.” I swallow, hoping she feels the same.

Jessica smooths her skirt like she needs something to do with her hands. “You really want to do this?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

I step closer, just enough that I can feel the tension between us thrum. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Shelley claps her hands once. “Okay, I’m officially excusing myself before this turns into a rom-com kiss scene. But I expect a full debrief tomorrow.”

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Talk later.”

“We certainly will…” Shelley snorts as she opens the door and walks out.

Jessica smiles, and I catch that look, the one that says she’s scared but she’s in. That she wants this, even if it’s messy.

“I don’t have anything to wear. There’s not enough time to go home.” She starts to become a little flustered, so I give her a moment to process things before I continue.

“I have a team at my penthouse waiting for you. Clothes, hair, makeup, the works.”

Her eyes widen. I put my plan in place earlier today. I want her to feel like the princess she is. Despite what her parents or anyone else thinks.

I offer my hand. “Ready?”

She hesitates for half a breath, then takes it. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” She looks amazing next to me as Gordon drives us to our first stop. Her hair is pinned back, her dress drapes over her curves, and for the first time ever, she’s wearing contacts. I miss the glasses, but she wanted to skip them for tonight.

“In that dress, I’m debating whether I need to take you straight back to the penthouse.”

“Thank you for all this. For the clothes, the hair, makeup, everything. You’ve made me feel really special.”

My eyes don’t leave hers. “You are special. Very special.” I grip her hand. I don’t know how many times I will need to say it before she believes me, but I will continue saying it. Her parents did a real number on her at Thanksgiving. I don’t think I will ever forgive them for it.

“Mabel would love this dress.” It isn’t the first time I’ve heard Mabel's name.

“Who is this Mabel again? I’ve heard you speak about her before.”

“She’s the lady who owns Thrift on Third.”

I frown, the shop not sounding familiar.

“I get all my clothes from her. She’s dressed me for years. Always has something for me each time I go in to see her.” That thought garners a wide smile.

“She has great taste. You always look amazing.”